


Crimes and Punishment

by sksdwrld



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-07
Updated: 2013-04-07
Packaged: 2017-12-07 19:05:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/751971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sksdwrld/pseuds/sksdwrld
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Scorpius laments the status of his unrequited flame for one of the Potters</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crimes and Punishment

My contribution to MelusinaHP's "One Prompt, Many Writers" mini-fest and my very first next-gen fic.

Title: Crimes and Punishment  
Pairing: Scorpius/unrequited  
Rating: PG  
Word Count: 500-ish

As the son of a Death-Eater, Scorpius had no right to want Him. Scorpius was the scum of society and it didn't matter that Harry Potter had spoken for his father and Grandmother after the war. People had their prejudices and were entitled to them. Scorpius was well-versed in the many ways his family had wronged others; how innocents had suffered at their hands and in their house. It was a wonder the ministry hadn't taken it away from them and burned it. That looming old mansion was the one thing they'd been allowed to keep. Not their wealth, not their secrets, and certainly not their dignity.

And that was precisely the reason why Scorpius should not feel this way: Wanting, yearning, pining after someone who was so far above his station that he was un-obtainable. It was a disgrace to the Potter namesake and legend that Scorpius thought about Him that way. He occupied his every waking thought, and many of his dreams. Scorpius wanked to fantasies of Him daily, nightly, and daydreams gave way to more spilled beverages than he could count. Scorpius' fingers were riddled with burns upon burns, and even Mrs. Lovegood, who owned the coffe shop for whom he worked surely thought him a simpleton.

Scorpius did not deserve to hope for, wish for, wait for Him day after day. But he did and he would continue to do so as if it were his duty. It was his pennace for being born a Malfoy. Scorpius was born to suffer as no one in his long line of pureblooded, haughty, self-righteous family members had suffered.

Scorpius would suffer and revel both, in His presence. He was gorgeous, with his father's hair and his mother's eyes. But, His smile was all his own --wide and toothy and friendly, with a rakish charm. His laugh was a rumble of thunder before a spring storm. And his touch... Scorpius had only known the too-short graze of overlapping fingers as beverages, baked goods and cash were exchanged...but still, it was gentle and warm, and God Damn! That was hot!

Scorpius tried not to yelp in pain as the hot steam that warmed the milk blew across his hand and felt a hot flush crawl up his neck, staining his cheeks. He handed the latte over to the witch who was tapping her shoe expectantly before shaking water off his hand and retreating to the corner to blow on it.

When the door jangled again, he craned his neck to see who it was, and then failed to restrain himself from leaping to the front of the line to attend him. Scorpius willed his beating heart to still, and the words to leave his lips without a stutter. Maybe today was the day he'd work up the courage to say it. Say more than...

"Hullo, Albus. What can I get for you today?"


End file.
